The Damaged (The Insiders Trilogy #2) - Tijan by Tijan

Besides all of that happening, total summer wasted.

AI.

Seriously.

That’s what these guys were into?

The question was rolling around in my head when Hoda took me to Ms. Wells’s office, and once I was in there, I knew we weren’t going to be talking about my class schedule, because I’d asked last spring to take on more than a full-time student’s load. I could handle it and I wanted to graduate in one year, not two. But seeing the set on her face, I braced myself. She had a round face with light pink freckles, strawberry-red hair that was combed through and styled to rest just under her ear, and a white satin blouse that was a size too small. It was snug, and there was a small pudge forming on her side, but as she shifted and pulled at her shirt to cover it, I wanted to tell her to let it go. Embrace the curve. And I was only thinking that because I was still nervous and worried, but I couldn’t quite point my finger on why I felt that way. It’d come to me, or more than likely Kash would just straight-up tell me.

“How was your first day at Hawking?”

I blinked.

That was … Okay. Not what I’d expected first. I was going to go with it.

“I’m processing everything.”

“The other students don’t know about your brain.”

Right. My photographic memory, which seemed to be sharpening with each year and not fading.

She picked up a pen, the end digging into her notebook, as she studied me. “They also don’t know about your tech skills.”

“Okay.”

I folded my hands together on my lap, frowning a little. I wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

“I’m sure you’re aware of the stats, but I’m going to tell them to you anyways. There’s one student in your cohort with the IQ level of a genius. There are three students with the IQ levels just below genius. Five students are technical geeks, if that’s the term to use. They love computers. They love everything about computers, and their knowledge level is exceptional, but regarding their general IQ level, they are above average, which is typical for students in our department. The remaining three are newer students to the IT department and are here only to secure a job for their family’s security. The intelligence levels don’t factor into this equation because they’re the outliers. They are actually just normal people.” She paused. Her eyebrow raised. The pen ground more into her notebook. “Are you following me?”

My nails dug into my palms, just slightly.

She wasn’t coming at me like Hoda had, mistaking me for one of those “average” students. Ms. Wells knew my résumé. She was coming at me like I was going to be a problem for her or the department, and I didn’t like that. I didn’t like it at all.

“Ms. Wells.” Shit. Was I going to do this?

I liked professors. Professors liked me.

I wasn’t a kiss-ass, but I was the student they never had to worry about or even try to teach. Give me a book and nine out of ten times I could teach myself. But I still needed to pay for the class hours to get that degree, and because of that, I utilized professors. I asked them questions that other students didn’t think about. Professors liked that, a lot.

They liked my mind.

This response wasn’t aligning with past professors.

I wasn’t accustomed to this behavior, and I wasn’t sure how to react to it. My father had never been an issue before. But now that people knew who he is, it seemed everything was going to be new for me. My heart was skipping a whole bunch of beats.

My palms were also sweating up a storm, but here goes.

“Yes?” she said.

Oh boy.

I let out a small pocket of air, wiping my hands over my jeans. “You’re judging.”

“Pardon?” Both her eyebrows were up now.

“You’re judging me. I’m not sure if it’s because of who my father is, because you probably got an extra call from both Goa and Busich, or hell, even if it’s because of who I’m dating”—her forehead puckered at that last one—“but I’m the type of student that doesn’t make waves. Being smart, I got teased a lot when I was younger. Like a lot. My cousins went to my school and they helped curtail some of the more aggressive people, but it happened. I’m a loner because of that, or usually a loner. I show up to class. I do the work. I do exceptional work. And I’m the type of student who wants to learn everything.

“I didn’t ask my father to make those calls. I didn’t ask to have two security guards with me here. Having said that, I know my father made those calls because he loves me, and he’s trying to make up for lost time. And the two guards are actually necessary. Who I was before is still me, but who I am now just means I’m going to have extra attention. That’s it.

“Those recommendations weren’t lying. I read them, each one. I can recite them to you word by word if you’d like, but those letters were also earned. Please judge me on those letters and not on who you think I’m going to be because you got two extra calls that other students don’t.”

She was silent when I finished, her mouth pressed together. Her eyes never wavered. She was taking me in, like she could sift through my own brain to figure me out, and then with a whoosh, all of what she was thinking disappeared. Her shoulders relaxed. Her eyebrows slackened. There was no more pinch in her forehead.